


It Started Out as a Feeling

by flitterflutterfly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, M/M, Pack Dynamics, Sentinel/Guide Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 04:10:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flitterflutterfly/pseuds/flitterflutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the newly bonded Sentinel Scott joins Derek Hale’s pack, Derek had just been happy that his group was growing larger and stronger. But Scott brings with him his old-temporary-guide-turned-friend named Stiles and the rest of Derek’s pack begin to conspire to get them together. And while Derek is attracted to Stiles, Stiles doesn’t want a full bond and Derek would never force that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Started Out as a Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Teen Wolf Big Bang. Inspired by purpleeyedgraceling’s post on tumblr asking for a Sterek Sentinel AU. If you know me, then you know I can never resist Sentinel AUs.
> 
> Art by [Xarenna](http://xarenna.livejournal.com).
> 
> Beta'd by my fav: diva0789.

“Can you hear them?” Erica asked, excitement in her voice.

“Can you?” Derek replied, not missing a beat. He could indeed hear them, or the car he assumed they were in. It purred in the distance, turning onto the small road that led to the large mansion house that his pack resided in, secluded from the bustle of Beacon Hills.

Erica pouted and leaned into Boyd, who put a hand on her shoulder. Derek watched the Guide steady his Sentinel, a sort of satisfaction rushing over him as Erica nodded. “Yeah, they’re on the path.”

Jackson huffed suddenly. “What is that, a Toyota?” Besides him, Lydia flipped her hair.

“Not everyone drives a Porsche, Jackson,” Danny remarked dryly.

Derek smirked, thinking of his Camaro, but before he could say anything the car of the new arrivals turned a bend and all the Sentinels in the group could make out the two figures sitting inside. The one driving Derek assumed was the Sentinel, Scott, with his Guide in the passenger seat. She was telling him something, but the words were hard to distinguish over the noise of the car’s engine and Derek respected their privacy enough not to pry. Not yet, anyway.

The car came to a stop not five feet away from the porch that the pack was all waiting on. Lydia was the first to her feet, running up to hug the new Guide.

“Hey,” Allison, the Guide, said. Derek knew that she and Lydia had been roommates in college and good friends besides. He hoped that would ease the new pair’s transition into the pack.

Scott came up and put a hand on Allison’s arm, smiling at Lydia for a moment before his eyes came to rest on Derek. Derek stood, the rest of the pack following him, and walked down the steps to greet the pair. “Scott, Allison,” he said. “I’m Derek, your new alpha.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Allison replied.

“Thank you for letting us join your pack,” Scott said, the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice, so small that only a Sentinel would have been able to hear it.

Derek let his lips twitch. “Even I know better than to say no when Lydia requests something of me.”

Lydia laughed, moving back into Jackson’s arms. Still, Derek mused to himself, he wouldn’t have been upset even had the new pair just been placed with them. Scott’s spirit animal was reportedly a wolf; he’d fit right in.

Allison brushed a lock of hair behind her ear with the arm that wasn’t currently wrapped around Scott’s. “Well, I’m sure you already know our names, but just to be sure, I’m Allison Argent. I’m guided by a falcon and I’m a level two beta-class Guide.”

“Scott McCall, wolf, level three beta-class Sentinel,” Scott said immediately following.

Derek nodded. Sentinels and Guides were separated into the three classes: alpha, beta, and omega. Within each class, they were put on levels one to three. It was known that pairs weren’t compatible across classes, but levels were flexible. He doubted that the fact that Allison’s Guide abilities were just a bit weaker then Scott’s Sentinel ones had caused them much problems. Still, Scott being a level three beta put him above most of the rest of Derek’s pack. He wondered how that would end up changing their dynamic.

“Lydia Martin, level two beta-class Guide,” Lydia said. “This is Jackson Whittemore, my Sentinel. He’s also a level two beta.”

“I’m a level one beta,” Erica said. “Erica Reyes. This is my Guide, Boyd.”

“Vernon Boyd,” the Guide added. “But just Boyd, please. I’m level three, beta.”

“I’m Danny Mahealani, beta-class Guide, level two,” Danny said. “This is my Sentinel, Isaac Lahey. He’s a level one Sentinel as well. My spirit animal is a dolphin and Lydia’s is a crow.”

“The rest of us are guided by wolves,” Erica explained. “That’s why we became Derek’s pack.”

“What’s your level?” Scott asked Derek.

Derek smirked at him for a moment. “Level two alpha.” Level one alphas were the most common, while level three were practically non-existent. Derek could name only two level three alphas alive in the world today, one of which was the High Alpha of North America.

The welcoming party broke up a bit after that, the pack taking the new pair inside to show them their room and give them a tour of the rest of the house. Derek left them to it and headed to the kitchen, where he began getting out the ingredients needed to barbeque some sausage outside.

Not five minutes later, he heard one of them separate from the group. He didn’t recognize the heartbeat, so it was either Scott or Allison.

Allison appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. Derek turned to her with a raised eyebrow and she smiled a bit sheepishly. “Do you need some help?”

Both of Derek’s eyebrows went up then, but he wordlessly pointed to the fridge. “We need to make a salad.”

“Okay,” Allison agreed easily. She opened the fridge and took out what she could find.

Derek left her to it for a moment, trying to figure out if she was claustrophobic in the big group, or if there was something she’d wanted to tell him. He had wondered how long it would take to bring up the elephant in the room.

Allison started chopping carrots with one of the large kitchen knifes. After a  moment, she sighed. “You were dating my aunt before she went dormant.”

Derek nodded, separating another slab of steak to put on the platter to take outside.

“I know,” Allison huffed as if to herself. “Kate wasn’t… I don’t blame you. I mean, she was obviously at fault, but-”

“Allison,” Derek said. “I approved you and Scott’s entrance into the pack knowing who your family was.”

“Only because Lydia vouched for me,” Allison countered. Derek turned to see that she was staring at him. “I just wanted you to know that I would never hurt this pack like Kate hurt you and your family. I would never do that to Scott. To anyone, I hope.”

Derek met her eyes until she looked away. It took longer than he expected and he found himself smiling. “You and Scott have a full bond. Kate and I would have never gotten to that stage. Never would have been able to. What she did hurt me. I spent years getting over it, but yes, Lydia vouched for you and so did the Center where you trained.”

“Okay,” Allison said. She went back to chopping carrots. “I know you don’t trust me yet, but I wanted to let you know that I’m going to try to earn that. Of you and the rest of the pack.”

“Thank you,” Derek told her sincerely.

He saw Allison smile out of the corner of his eyes and the tension he hadn’t even realized he was carrying seeped out of him.

.-._.-._.-.

The pack was all lounging in the giant living room. Scott stretched his arm around the couch behind Allison’s head and grinned. He approved of the number of couches and armchairs they had.

“Where’d Derek go?” Lydia asked, coming in to sit in between Allison and Jackson on the largest of the couches.

“Grocery store,” Danny said. Isaac was half lying in his lap and he pet his Sentinel’s hair almost absentmindedly. “I offered to go with him, but he said no.”

“Our alpha sometimes wants his alone time,” Erica told Scott. “It’s best to let him.”

“Is that why he hasn’t bonded yet?” Scott asked, frowning.

“Not hardly,” Lydia snorted. “Not with those abs. They alone make up for any personality flaws he has.”

“Isn’t that true?” Danny laughed. In his lap, Isaac pressed himself closer to his Guide and Danny leaned down to kiss his Sentinel’s forehead.

“There aren’t that many alpha Guides out there who aren’t bonded already,” Boyd said.

“And the ones that are don’t come to Beacon Hills on a whim,” Erica sighed. “We tried to get Derek to go to a mixer in Riverside or something, but the pack there is…”

“Our alliance with them is shaky at best,” Jackson said. “The dicks.”

Isaac snorted his agreement. “We don’t really know what to do,” he said softly.

Scott exchanged a worried glance with Allison. He pulled her closer to him, a bit chilled. “I was talking with my friend. Um, well he was my temp Guide in college, but anyway. He wanted to come down to visit. He’s an alpha Guide, so he might know of someone we can introduce to Derek.”

Danny shifted, looking from Scott to Jackson then back to Scott. “You know, I was Jackson’s temporary Guide. I met Isaac when I was coming down here to visit him…”

Scott laughed before he could help it, thinking of Derek and Stiles. That’d be crazy. “That won’t work, man,” he said, settling on the easiest reason why the two would never bond. “Stiles doesn’t want a full bond. With anyone.”

“Huh,” Erica hummed. “Well, we’ll just have to see.”

Scott looked at Allison, but instead of being as amused as he was, she looked contemplative. He frowned at her and she quickly kissed him on the cheek.

Stiles and Derek? No… that was silly. “Right?” Scott asked Allison softly.

“Maybe,” Allison told him. “But anyway, you should tell him to come visit. It’s been too long since I’ve seen him.”

“Yeah, me too,” Scott agreed. He pulled out his phone.

.-._.-._.-.

Stiles frowned down at his phone. There was one new text, from Scott.

_Hey man, sry, I zoned this morning on a squirrel n Allison dsn’t want me 2 drive. Derek gunna pick u up, c u soon!_

“Idiot,” Stiles muttered fondly. He put his phone away and rolled his suitcase out the door of the small airport. He looked around at the waiting cars, wondering which one belonged to Scott’s new alpha.

A horn honked and Stiles turned towards it. The window rolled down on a black Camero. Stiles walked to it and leaned down, meeting the hazel eyes of a startlingly attractive man. “Derek?”

“You must be Stiles,” the man, Sentinel, said. “I’ll pop the trunk.”

Stiles walked to the back of the car, but before he could attempt to lug his bag into the trunk, the Sentinel got out and took it from him. Stiles was momentarily taken in by the play of muscles on the man’s impressive arms, but he pulled himself away and smiled in thanks to the alpha.

They both got back into the car and it smoothly shot passed the others to the airport exit. Stiles glanced at the stoic profile. “Thank you for picking me up.”

Derek nodded shortly, glancing at Stiles just briefly. “It’s fine.”

Stiles scrunched his nose up for a moment before clearing his expression. He wondered what else to say, but in the end he just took out his phone and texted Scott that they were on their way.

Scott sent back a smiley face and Stiles rolled his eyes before pocketing his phone again. “So, how are they doing. Scott and Allison I mean?”

“Well enough,” Derek said. “The pack likes them.”

Stiles hummed. “And you?”

Derek glanced at him again, before smoothly changing lanes. “They’re good additions to the pack.”

Stiles wondered what that meant, but he couldn’t get a good read on the Sentinel’s emotions. Definitely alpha-level, he thought. Oh well, he’d just have to see what he could find out when they arrived at the rest of the pack.

The rest of trip was passed with the kind of small talked that fizzled out and Stiles let himself be entertained by his own thoughts. He wasn’t too discouraged, he just figured Derek wasn’t much of a talker and left it at that.

As soon as he got out of the car, Stiles was swept up into the arms of his excitable best friend. He laughed and hugged Scott back tightly, before pulling back to hug Allison.

“I’m glad you made it safely,” Allison said. “Come, meet the rest of the pack.”

“You’ll like them,” Scott said. “They’re cool.”

Stiles relaxed, smiling freely. “Then I’m excited to meet them.”

.-._.-._.-.

The dining table had to be expanded to fit Scott and Allison already, so adding another place wasn’t all that difficult. Derek had to wonder why Lydia had placed Stiles to the right of him, but he figured it was a honorary guest thing and shrugged it off.

Things were a bit too silent at first as everyone dug into their steaks, but soon enough Allison cleared her throat and turned to Stiles. “So, how’s your new book going?”

Stiles smiled. “Fine. I mean, it’s not really flowing as much as  _Guiding in Plain Sight_  did, but it’s certainly not as bad as  _The Dos and Do Not’s of Pair Bonding_.”

Scott snorted. “I remember that one, man. I thought you were going to kill yourself to escape from having to write another chapter.”

“Wait, you’re  _that_  Stilinski? G. Stilinski?” Danny asked, staring.

Stiles laughed. “Just Stiles, please,” he said.

“Wait, hold on,” Jackson said. “If you’re really G. Stilinski, that means you’ve written, what, five books?”

“Uh, well one of those was actually just a collection of my published papers so,” Stiles shrugged.

Jackson turned to Scott. “You had G. Stilinski as your temporary Guide and you didn’t bond with him? You’re even dumber than I thought, McCall.”

“Hey now!” Stiles protested before Scott could open his mouth to defend himself. “First off, Scott and I would have never worked out. He’s not even bisexual. Also, I told you already, it’s  _Stiles_.”

Derek looked at Allison, wondering what she thought of Jackson’s comment. She saw him looking and rolled her eyes. “Besides,” she stated. “Stiles is alpha-class.”

Derek froze and looked again at their guest. He’d wondered why he was so pulled towards the Guide, but of course if he was a potential alpha… he always felt a bit of a pull towards alpha but now that he knew that was what it was he should be able to assess it clearly like he’d done before and figure out how much he like the person and how much he just like the Guide. “My sister was fond of your first book,” he said to continue the conversation. “She tried to make me read it, but-” he shrugged.

“Derek’s not much of a reader,” Erica told Stiles, as if confessing some huge secret. “I have to admit, though, Stiles, you’re a lot younger than I thought you’d be. I mean, for your accomplishments.”

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. “Well I published my first book while I was an undergrad, so… I mean I didn’t have to go through a Master’s or anything, the university just let me skip right on to get my doctorate in Sentinel-Guide studies.”

“Stiles works hard,” Scott said. “He always helped me study in school.”

“As much as I could,” Stiles snorted. “You were suck a slacker.”

“Dude, I know,” Scott laughed.

Derek felt the stirrings of jealousy at the easy back and forth between the former temporary pair. He shook himself of it best he could.

“So, Stiles, where are you staying?” Danny asked.

“Uh, I don’t actually know yet,” Stiles said. “I was gonna ask for suggestions on a hotel, if you guys wouldn’t mind. I’ve never been to Beacon Hills before.”

“We have a guestroom,” Derek said before he could stop himself. Actually, they had multiple guestrooms, but he didn’t often let people outside of the pack’s immediate family stay in any of them. What was this Guide doing to him to have him trust so easily?

Stiles stared for long enough that were Derek not in control of his emotions he might have flushed. “But… this is your territory. Your pack territory. I mean I’m thankful enough you let me eat here for dinner instead of on neutral ground-”

“Stiles,” Derek interrupted, testing out the use of the Guide’s name as much as a way to stop the flow of words. “Scott and Allison both trust you. They’re my pack now, and that makes you a part of it.” He paused, wondering where those words had come from. “If you want to be.”

Stiles face lit up and Scott grinned, clapping him on the back. “Thanks man!” Stiles said. “I wasn’t looking forward to lugging myself here and back during the visit.”

“It’s no problem,” Derek said, a bit gruffly. The rest of his pack all shared what they thought were secret grins and Derek resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “How long will you be staying?”

Stiles shrugged. “I hadn’t booked a flight home yet. I was actually hoping…” his cheeks reddened.

“Hoping what?” Erica asked, sounding far too eager. Derek glanced at Boyd, but the Guide was too relaxed to be feeling any sort of threat of his Sentinel wanting a new Guide so it must be something else driving Erica. He wondered for a moment why he was so obsessed with his pack feeling threatened by the Guide, and so grateful they weren’t.

“I’m working on a new book,” Stiles said. “I’ve been in correspondence with a man here, Alan Deaton, do you know him?”

“Yes,” Derek said. Deaton was the man who trained Derek into who he was today, instead of the man he could have become after Kate. “He’s human.”

“Which makes his insight on the Sentinel-Guide bond all the more valuable, since it’s objective,” Stiles said, frowning.

Derek almost corrected the Guide’s probable assumption that he was biased against normal humans, but before he could Lydia had directed his attention away, explaining that Deaton lived in town and that she and Jackson would be glad to drive him there tomorrow.

“Thanks,” Stiles beamed at her.

Derek felt something stir in his chest, a sort of tug in Stiles’ direction, and he glared down at his food. Now wasn’t the time to get smitten over a Guide, not with the inclusion of new pack members to make family

.-._.-._.-.

“Mr. Deaton,” Stiles said, holding out a hand. He didn’t ever shake the hands of other Guides or Sentinels, for various reasons, but with mundane humans he had strong enough shields that it wasn’t ever a problem.

“Alan, please Mr. Stilinski,” Deaton said, shaking Stiles’ hand.

“Then you must call me Stiles,” Stiles replied. “I’m a big fan of the paper you just published. I wouldn’t have ever thought of looking into the genetic likelihood of children manifesting depending on their parents bond status.”

“It was a strange phenomenon,” Deaton agreed. “I understand your parents had a full bond, Mr- ah, Stiles.”

“Yes,” Stiles felt his smile drop and he cleared his throat. “They did.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Deaton murmured.

Stiles shook his head. “It was a long time ago.” He looked around the office and gestured to one of the chairs. “Do you mind if I-”

“Yes, of course,” Deaton said. “Excuse the clutter. Quite often it is just my assistant, Janice Morrell, you might have heard of her, who comes by.”

“I get it,” Stiles laughed. “It’s a good thing I do things only electronically or I’d have an even worse mess then you.”

Deaton chuckled and sat down across from Stiles. “So I understand you’re researching into the age of coming online and how that effects the level by which a Sentinel or Guide is placed?”

“Exactly.” Stiles nodded. “While I was looking through research for  _The Alpha Phenomena_  I noticed that all of the level three alphas by whom we have records for came online before they turned eight and all the level twos before they hit puberty.”

“Did that hold true for betas and omegas?” Deaton frowned. “I don’t think I’ve seen any research supporting that.”

“No, it’s the opposite,” Stiles said. “The younger a beta comes online, the lower level, it seemed on average. With, of course, outliers on the scale, but statistically there is significance for betas coming online before they turn around eighteen or so.”

“No beta has ever come online older than thirty,” Deaton mused.

“And no omega younger than twenty-five,” Stiles said. “Even level three omegas. In fact, I can find no pattern for them. Omegas seem to be a completely random correlation along this line.”

“Fascinating,” Deaton said. “I would love to see the data you’ve gathered thus far, of course.”

“Absolutely,” Stiles agreed. “And I wanted to compound this with your research on genetics and see if it’s possible that there is a correlation between the age the gifted parents of Sentinels and Guides come online has anything to do when their children do.”

“But how will you then account for the fact that most come online during trauma?” Deaton asked.

“That,” Stiles said. “Is the big question. Time of trauma, after all, can’t be genetic, right? But then, there has never been anyone younger than five years old who has ever come online in the world, so far as we know. And we do know that, unfortunately, children younger than five can and do experience trauma.”

“So there has to be a genetic marker by which a child is able to come online…” Deaton tapped his cheek and then began to sort through his papers, pulling out a pen and notepad. “And then it would be the first catalyst once that… can we call it a sort of puberty?”

Stiles nodded, grinning. “That’s good.” He clapped his hands together. “I don’t know about you, Alan, but I’m starting to get excited.”

Deaton laughed. “As am I, Stiles, as am I.”

.-._.-._.-.

Boyd hadn’t been sure what to think of Stiles at first. He wasn’t one for change and so much had happened in so short a period of time. First Scott and Allison, and then this alpha Guide.

Of course, the bonded pair was fitting right in and though Boyd tolerated Scott, he rather like Allison for her intelligence and willingness to work. He knew Scott would grow on him too, the Sentinel was strong and kind of like a happy-to-please dog. It was an interesting mix.

Boyd turned his eyes again to the newest Guide, Stiles. He was typing furiously on his laptop, a notebook next to him with a bunch of scribble lines on it that probably meant something and a pen between his teeth.

Lydia walked into the room and then made her way towards Stiles, but Scott stopped her with a shake of his head. Lydia tilted her own in a question.

Scott glanced towards Stiles and shrugged and then something quick in Spanish. Boyd smiled as Lydia replied. It had been an off-hand comment by the Guide early on when Scott and Allison had arrived about being able to speak fifteen languages fluently and then Allison mentioned that Scott grew up bilingual and it just went from there. No one else in the pack knew any language other than English so Boyd figured it was nice for Lydia, even if Spanish was just one of the fifteen in her arsenal.

Scott and Lydia left for the porch, leaving just Boyd and Stiles in the living room. Boyd wondered briefly if he should stop staring at the Guide, but he wasn’t even sure that Stiles noticed. It was one of Boyd’s talents: blending into the background to be able to observe people without them realizing.

Except Stiles looked up then, straight at him, and smiled around his pen. He took it out of his mouth and cleared his throat. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?”

Boyd narrowed his eyes, but nodded. “Go ahead.”

“What age did you come online?” Stiles asked softly.

Boyd remembered vividly the screaming. It was in the middle of lunch at the high school’s cafeteria and Erica had fallen down, her food spilling all over her, and begun seizing. Boyd hadn’t known why he’d rushed toward her, only that all the sudden he was holding her hand and she was calming, just like that.

“Fifteen,” he said.

Stiles hummed. “And you’re a level three Guide.”

Boyd nodded, though it hadn’t been a question. “How old were you?” he asked, because it was only fair and he wasn’t sure Stiles would answer had he not.

Stiles hesitated long enough that Boyd knew he’d been right, and then he sighed. “Ten.”

Boyd sucked in a deep breath of surprise and Stiles smiled softly, bittersweet. “I am sorry,” he said, because it had to have been some deep trauma.

“Thank you,” Stiles answered. He looked back at his laptop and then closed it. “Should we make some lunch for the rest?”

Boyd stood. “Sure,” he agreed easily, following Stiles into the kitchen though, by rights of the fact that this was Boyd’s house not Stiles he should be the one leading the way.

He resolved to contemplate that more later.

.-._.-._.-.

“You look as though you have a question for me.” Deaton folded his hands and gave Stiles what was already a familiar look.

“Well, yes, I wanted to talk to you about the last chapter of my new book,” Stiles said.

But Deaton was shaking his head. “No. Though we should discuss that at some point. But there is something else on your mind, isn’t it?”

Stiles huffed out a breath. “Are you sure you’re not empathic?”

Deaton laughed and shook his head. “Quite sure.”

Stiles smiled briefly, and then scratched his head. “Derek, the alpha Sentinel… why doesn’t he, uh…”

“Why isn’t he bonded?” Deaton asked gently. He sighed heavily. “Have you heard of Kate Argent?”

“Related to Allison?” Stiles asked.

“Her aunt, yes,” Deaton nodded. “Many years ago, when Derek first came online, Kate was assigned as his temporary Guide. Derek was still just a boy, just thirteen at the time.” He gave Stiles a look.

“That’s young,” Stiles said. Most Sentinels and Guides came online in their late teens, but then Derek was level two and according to Stiles’ research on alphas, that made sense.

“You were younger,” Deaton said. “Were you not?”

Stiles frowned. “How did you…”

Deaton shook his head. “Kate had a grudge against the former Beacon Hills pack for something trivial. She burned down the pack house.”

“What?” Stiles sat up straight in his chair, gaping. “Derek-”

“Survived,” Deaton said. “As did his uncle and his older sister. Kate went dormant and was tried by the High Alpha himself.”

“Good,” Stiles muttered, feeling sick. “What happened?”

“The three moved to New York City,” Deaton sighed. “I was working in the center there as a trained psychologist and that’s when I met Derek.”

“You must have helped him a lot,” Stiles murmured.

Deaton ran a hand along the side of his face, suddenly looking much older. “I did what I could.”

“I’m sure you did,” Stiles said. He ached, briefly, for how Derek must have felt after the tragedies.

Deaton sighed. “Derek graduated from NYC the day before his uncle and sister died in a car accident. We both moved here. I set up this center and helped Derek rebuild the house. Isaac was the first to join the pack, soon after, and the rest followed.” He smiled. “The new pack has been good for the city. They patrol every night and work with the local police department on crimes better then most packs.” Deaton paused, obviously thinking of one in particular.

“Riverside?” Stiles guessed.

Deaton shook his head. “Yes.”

“Wow,” Stiles breathed. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.”

“Doesn’t it?” Deaton asked. “How about you, Stiles? Why are you not bonded?”

Stiles looked away.

.-._.-._.-.

Derek smelled something off with Stiles the minute the Guide opened the car door. “Everything okay?” he asked.

Stiles didn’t meet his eyes. “Everything’s fine.” He closed the door and buckled his seatbelt. He cleared his throat. “Where are Jackson and Lydia?”

“They’re training,” Derek said shortly.

Stiles nodded, strangely subdued still. Derek frowned, looking past Stiles to where Deaton was watching them out of his office window. Deaton met his eyes, his mouth set in a determined line that Derek knew quite well.

Derek started his car and pulled out of the small parking lot, perplexed. He waited until he’d begun down the main road before looking at Stiles again.

Stiles was watching him. Derek blinked and Stiles blushed. It was a bit endearing, the red that spread over the Guide’s cheekbones. Derek almost took a hand off the steering to touch that skin, wondering if it would be warm to his fingertips, but he resisted just in time.

“Deaton told me about your family,” Stiles said finally.

Derek’s hands tightened on the wheel and he took a single, calming breath. Deaton wasn’t one to share private things indiscriminately, which meant he’d told Stiles for a reason. “And?”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Stiles said. He reached over, almost hesitant, and rubbed Derek’s shoulder briefly.

Derek felt the tension bleed out of his arms and he shook his head. “It’s in the past.”

“Okay,” Stiles said easily. “What’s for dinner?”

“Pizza,” Derek said. “Erica’s ordering though so I can’t guarantee it won’t be something weird.”

“Oh man, I’ve already had the worst combination, so it’s all okay,” Stiles laughed. “At the dining hall at SF State they had grape and ham pizza.”

“Grape and ham,” Derek repeated, disgusted despite himself. “Did you eat it?”

“Well, yeah,” Stiles said.

Derek settled back into his seat, letting the sound of Stiles’ voice and the hilarity of his story wash over him as he drove them both back to the rest of the pack.

It was something he could get used to, he realized. Derek narrowed his eyes and quickly glanced at Stiles, but the Guide was caught up in his tale. His slender hands were waving in the air, jabbing at nothing to prove a point, and Derek was caught by the sheer beauty of him.

“The marshmallows really didn’t help,” Stiles said, grinning at Derek. “But then it wasn’t one of my better ideas, so…”

Derek snorted and pulled his eyes back to the road. The Guide wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, he had time to study him all he wanted later.

.-._.-._.-.

Derek had the Sentinels all doing a sort of hunt and chase through the woods. Danny had hated it as a training method the first time he’d gone through it with Isaac, too anxious at his Sentinel being out of his sights and still using his senses, but it was years now after they’d first bonded and he could just relax with the rest of the Guides on the porch until Derek asked for volunteers to be bait.

Allison jumped up immediately and Danny had to wonder if she thought it would help her standing in the pack to be so willing. He certainly had been all over helping everyone at first. It as Guide prerogative, or something, until things settled down.

Lydia followed Allison immediately, not even breaking in her rant about the newest fashion trend in Paris. Boyd stood, too, and gave Danny a meaningful look. Danny nodded to his friend and fellow Guide, watching as the dark-skinned male followed the two girls and Derek into the woods.

He looked to the left and saw Stiles walk out of the house with a platter of lemonade. “Where’d everyone go?”

“Derek needed their help for a minute,” Danny said. He grabbed a glass. “Thanks.”

Stiles hummed and set the platter down on the porch before grabbing his own glass. “So, Danny, I’m sorry if this is rude, but it’s been bothering me. Pacific Islander?”

Danny laughed and nodded. “Yeah, Hawaii, born and raised.” He paused, wondering how to gauge the alpha Guide besides him as the rest of the pack wanted him to. “So anyone waiting back in Chicago?” he settled on asking.

“Nah,” Stiles shook his head.

“Why not?” Danny prodded.

Stiles looked at him and for a moment Danny thought that the other Guide knew what angle he was aiming for, but then he grinned and the moment was lost. “I’ve never been one to stick around, I guess you could say. Actually, I’m probably most married to my research.”

“Well, you’re a damn prodigy,” Danny muttered.

Stiles laughed. “Not so much, but anyway, how did you meet Isaac?”

“Well, I was Jackson’s temporary Guide,” Danny said. “We both went to Harvard for our Master’s and Jackson came online from the stress.”

“Tough,” Stiles winced sympathetically. “That gets a lot of college-bound Sentinels who might not have come online otherwise.”

Danny nodded. “Anyway, he met Lydia at some meet and greet his parents had set up and they clicked pretty immediately and moved down here to be a part of Derek’s pack.”

“So you came to visit Jackson…” Stiles said, seeing where this was going.

“Isaac was already a member,” Danny said, his voice dropping. Stiles shifted closer to him, body language welcoming. “He grew up in Beacon Hills, but he came online young.”

“The catalyst?” Stiles asked softly.

Danny winced. “His father. He…”

Stiles held up a hand. “Say no more, I get it.”

Danny had a sudden feeling that he did and cleared his throat. “While I was here that first time, Isaac kept smiling at me. I didn’t realize it was strange, until Derek pulled me aside and told me that Isaac hadn’t smiled like that since his father had been put in prison.”

“So you stayed,” Stiles murmured.

“So I stayed,” Danny echoed. He looked up, feeling his bonded coming closer. Isaac appeared out of the tree line and he smiled. “I certainly don’t regret it.”

It was only the next day, when Derek was off driving Stiles to his meeting with Deaton, that Danny mused back over that conversation and wondered. He barely knew Stiles, but even now he wasn’t worried about what he’d said, despite how personal and how protective of his Sentinel he was.

He mentioned as much to the rest of the pack.

“How does he do it?” Danny asked. “It’s like I wasn’t even conscious about what I was saying, I just ended up talking to him.”

Scott smiled and exchanged a glance with Allison. “Yeah, he has that effect on people.”

“That’d be good for Derek,” Erica muttered.

Jackson and Boyd both snorted in agreement, but Allison was frowning. “Look guys,” she began, “I know you want someone for Derek. And we want someone for Stiles too, but if they’re not compatible-”

“They are,” Lydia said. “Or haven’t you seen the way Derek watches him, touches him. You haven’t been here long enough to know, but Derek doesn’t touch people.”

“He barely touches us,” Isaac added.

“Stiles…” Scott began.

“Also watches Derek,” Jackson said. “Whenever he thinks we’re not looking.”

The rest of the pack nodded and Danny felt a frisson of excitement at the idea that this might be it, they might have finally found the one that would complete their pack; that would fill the hole they knew was missing, versus the one that they hadn’t realized needed to be filled when Scott and Allison came along.

“Maybe,” Allison agreed finally. “But let’s just not push it, okay? I don’t want to see Stiles, or Derek, hurt by this.”

“I agree with Allison,” Danny said, because he did and because the new pair was still unsteady enough in their opinions that they needed to feel supported when they put one out there. “Let’s take it slow.”

Isaac shifted, brushing up against Danny’s side and Danny ran a hand along his Sentinel’s thigh, steadying him. He knew how badly Isaac, more then anyone here, wanted Derek to be happy. How he felt like he owed that to Derek, but his Sentinel also knew to trust Danny’s judgment and so slow they would go.

.-._.-._.-.

“Where are they now?” Stiles asked.

Derek cocked his head to the side. “By the main road.”

Stiles grinned. He never got the chance to work on training in Chicago. The Chicago packs weren’t against him living in the city, even unbonded and without a pack of his own, but they didn’t let him intrude on their more personal territory like Derek was. It still amazed him to think that Derek was letting him help train his pack.

“Your spirit animal is quite the sneak,” Derek murmured, still obviously listening in on the pack.

“Fox squirrels, you know,” Stiles shrugged. He hadn’t been sure at first that his spirit animal would be able to put off enough smell that the Sentinels could track it, but his squirrel always rose to a challenge.

That was the funny thing about spirit animals, they could be as visible or not as they wanted. If Stiles’ squirrel didn’t want to be seen, it could just vanish, but for this challenge Stiles made sure that the Sentinels all knew that his squirrel would be visible one-hundred percent of the time  _plus_  it would be giving off a little of Stiles’ scent.

“That’s too easy,” Erica had said.

Nearly two hours later and Stiles doubted any of the pack thought it was easy anymore. Squirrels could blend into the trees quite well, after all.

“They’re cornering it,” Derek said suddenly. He paused briefly and then sent Stiles a sort of nasty grin. “Should I distract them?”

“Please,” Stiles laughed. He watched avidly as a dark shape suddenly formed next to the alpha Sentinel, solidifying into a dark wolf with glowing red eyes. The wolf bowed to him, nose nearly touching the ground, before it raised its head and howled. “Oh.”

Derek reached over, stroking Stiles along the back of his shoulder. Stiles shivered through his shirt and moved closer to Derek’s body heat. “That did it,” Derek said, just next to Stiles’ ear. He chuckled. “Lydia is yelling at me.”

“I’ll bet,” Stiles said. “She seems the type.”

“Oh she is,” Derek told him.

Stiles watched Derek’s spirit animal watching him and shivered again. Derek shifted and Stiles looked over to see he was taking off his jacket. “I don’t-” he began.

“The sun it going down, it’s fine,” Derek said. He handed the leather coat over and Stiles put it on gratefully. He sighed into the warmth. “Chicago?”

Stiles laughed a bit. “Yeah, I know, but I’m a sucker for the cold even this far south. Chicago winters just have me never leaving my apartment.”

Derek smiled, amused, and Stiles felt a bit of a victory for bringing that expression to the alpha Sentinel’s face. He breathed in the jacket’s scent to keep from grinning back, but regretted it immediately as Derek’s musky scent infiltrated his nostrils.

“Okay?” Derek asked, watching him with bright eyes. Before Stiles could answer, though, he cocked his head to the side. “They caught it.”

Stiles breathed out heavily. “I should go inside.”

Derek frowned, but Stiles was already standing and shedding the jacket before he could do something stupid like keep it. He couldn’t… his heart was racing too fast and he just needed to leave before he did something stupid.

He was glad that Derek let him go, even though he could tell the Sentinel wanted to say something. Back up in his own, temporary, room, Stiles closed his door and sank to the ground. He put a hand over his heart. “What are you doing, Stilinski?”

He didn’t have an answer for himself.

.-._.-._.-.

“You’ve been tense,” Lydia stated. Derek sat in his office, growling softly at his phone. He didn’t respond to her and Lydia sighed, walking inside the room. “It’s Riverside, isn’t it?”

“I don’t understand their game,” Derek muttered. “Other than toying with us.”

“She’s supposed to call?” Lydia asking, gesturing to the phone.

“Call back,” Derek said. “We only talked for ten minutes before there was some _emergency_  she had to tend to.”

Lydia snorted in disgust. “Of course there was.”

Derek quirked his lips, but it wasn’t really a gesture of amusement. Lydia traced the tenseness in her alpha’s shoulders and frowned. “I just wish…” there were too many ways to end that sentence. She settled with, “… that they weren’t the closest full-sized pack.”

“Like always, Lydia, you speak the truth,” Derek said. He seemed to contemplate something for a moment, and then he looked up at her. “How is Stiles doing?”

Lydia stared hard at him. “Why do you want to know?” she settled on.

“Don’t play that game with me,” Derek growled and Lydia lowered her eyes.

“I don’t know,” she said. “He’s been quieter, like he’s working through something.” She looked up slyly, wondering if they were on the verge of what they’d all been waiting for. “You should talk to him.”

Derek breathed something that only another Sentinel would have been able to make out. Lydia examined her nails. The alpha sighed finally. “I will,” he said.

“Good,” Lydia moved back towards the door, already wondering where Jackson was to tell him the news.

The phone started ringing just then and they both froze. Then Derek picked it up and raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’ll get someone to bring you coffee or something,” Lydia said.

She left the room and headed upstairs. Derek would be distracted with the she-bitch so Lydia felt no fear in  _accidentally_  running into Stiles. “Sorry,” she said.

“My fault,” Stiles replied. “Where are you coming from in such a rush?”

“Derek’s office, second floor.” She pointed in the general direction. “He’s in negotiations with the Riverside pack, it’s been stressful as always.”

“Oh,” Stiles murmured, looking in the direction she had pointed and Lydia hid her smile.

.-._.-._.-.

Derek clicked END on his phone, his whole body shaking with repressed anger. He resisted the urge to throw the cell away and instead set it down on the desk in front of him, before slumping forward in his chair.

He hated dealing with the Riverside pack, but of course that bitch of an alpha was sending Harris over within the next month to complete their negotiations and Harris was even worse to talk to then she was. It was aggravating, how condescending they were to him and his pack. Hell, it was more than aggravating, but there was truth in the words that the small size of Derek’s pack versus hers would lead to death should a pack war break out.

He winced as his head pounded at the thought and he pressed his forehead against the cool wood of the desk, trying to relieve the tension.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway and paused in the door to the office. Derek was about to say something, but then they started again, coming closer, until he could feel the other at his back.

Hands brushed gently over his shoulder and then fingers pressed down harder, working on the tension in his muscles. Derek groaned and leaned back against those hands, until he realized what he was doing and tensed.

“Stiles?” Derek asked, because he’d already begun recognizing the Guide’s pattern of breathing now that he was focusing on it.

“Is that okay?” Stiles asked hesitantly. “You looked like you needed it.”

“It’s fine,” Derek huffed, shaking himself of his own shock. He rolled his shoulders back and Stiles’ hand returned immediately. “I just didn’t realize it was you.”

“Oh,” Stiles murmured. Derek was sure the Guide was wondering why not, considering the Sentinel senses. Derek didn’t want to say it was because he’d already imprinted on Stiles as pack, so he said nothing.

Stiles’ nimble fingers worked up his neck. Derek forced himself not to tense up. The rest of his pack never touched his neck when they were giving him a massage. It was a gesture of his alpha status over them that they couldn’t, but Stiles just went ahead like it was nothing. Like it didn’t mean…

“Stiles,” Derek breathed. He stood and turned, grasping Stiles by the waist as the Guide unsteadied by the sudden movement.

Stiles’ eyes were bright, glowing in the daylight streaming from the window. Derek listened briefly for the rest of the pack, but he could only hear them faintly. In the woods, he thought, satisfied.

“Derek?” Stiles asked.

Derek took a chance and moved, tucking his head into Stiles’ neck. He like that they were about the same height, though Stiles was a bit more slender than he was. They fit together, like that.

Stiles had stiffened under him, but Derek refused to let go and after a moment, the Guide’s hand reached up to begin stroking at his hair.

“You…” Derek murmured. He tried to force out the words to what he was feeling, what he wanted, but they were stuck in his throat. He pulled back so that Stiles could see his eyes, hoping that the words would come through there.

Stiles inhaled deeply, shocked. “Derek.”

Derek reached up and stroked Stiles’ cheek with his thumb and then cupped the Guide’s head. He leaned in, slowly, and Stiles’ eyelids fluttered as if he was going to close them. As if he was going to allow the kiss.

Stiles pulled away suddenly, terror flashing across his whole body like a physical slap to Derek’s face. He smelled the sour taste of fear in the air, mixing like a nasty concoction with the rising of Stiles’ heartbeat. “I-”

“I can’t,” Stiles said, cutting him off. “I can’t, Derek, I’m sorry.”

And with that, the Guide turned on his heels and fled the room.

.-._.-._.-.

Scott found him like Stiles knew he would. It didn’t make him any happier to have his solitude interrupted, but what could he do? Scott was a Sentinel on a mission and Stiles was still too visibly upset that a simple excuse would make him go away.

“Are you okay?” Scott asked, sitting next to Stiles on the boulder. A stream stretched in front of them and all around the woods were silent.

Stiles knew they were far enough from the house that none of the other Sentinels would be able to hear their conversation, but that didn’t make him any less reluctant to talk.

“Did Derek do something?” Scott prodded.

Stiles stiffened before he could help it, but quickly held out a hand as Scott snarled. “Not… he didn’t  _do_  anything. It was my fault.”

“Stiles,” Scott breathed. “What happened?”

Stiles sighed and curled an arm around his knees. “I got too close, I guess. I wanted…”

“Him?” Scott finished. “You wanted him?”

Stiles nodded silently. Scott scooted closer to him and brushed a hand on his arm, as if Scott could calm him like Allison could calm Scott. Stiles smiled at the attempt.

“We almost bonded,” he said finally. “I almost let him kiss me. I was so ready.”

“Why didn’t you?” Scott asked.

“You know why,” Stiles muttered.

“It wouldn’t have to be a full bond-” Scott began, but he stopped when Stiles glared at him. “Or not.”

“We’re too compatible to be able to stop, even consciously,” Stiles said.

Scott growled. “That’s stupid.”

Stiles frowned at his friend, wondering what the Sentinel was referring to, but Scott was already standing.

“You should talk to him,” Scott said. “He’s upset and he thinks he forced you or some shit like that.”

“He won’t understand why I don’t want a full bond,” Stiles protested. “I don’t want to give him false hope.”

“Then  _explain_  to him,” Scott said, rolling his eyes. “Or isn’t that the advice you always gave me and Allison when we were working through our issues?”

“True,” Stiles said. He sighed. “I just… don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Maybe you weren’t,” Scott said, grinning.

“Yeah, probably not.” Stiles stood and began to follow Scott back to the pack house. “Guess I was pulling a you, huh?”

Scott gasped, mock outraged and Stiles laughed.

.-._.-._.-.

Derek wasn’t quite sure what his pack was thinking, but he knew best and what he knew was that giving Stiles space was the right thing to do. Despite the fact that the rest of the pack kept trying to engineer them alone time, Derek worked to make sure that Stiles was never alone in his company for long should the Guide feel uncomfortable.

After all, Stiles had rejected what was, had been, burning between them. He was probably afraid Derek would try again.

In a less equal world, Derek might have, but he was not raised the kind of Sentinel that forced bonds. Even if he wanted Stiles like he’d never wanted any other Guide before.

So sure that Stiles didn’t want anything to do with him, Derek was honestly surprised when he found the Guide knocking on the door to his bedroom. “Is everything alright?” he asked, senses immediately stretching out.

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

“They all went… somewhere,” Stiles said to his unspoken question. “Patrolling, I think.”

Derek frowned. He should have heard them leaving, but he’d been so caught up in his thoughts of the Guide in front of him that his awareness of his territory had been slipping lately. If he was being honest, he was a little bitter about that.

“We should talk,” Stiles said. He backed away from the door and then turned around. Derek followed him silently, trying to keep a distance between them.

Stiles led him to the den, where he collapsed on one of the couches. Derek took a seat on the nearest armchair, because he found he couldn’t make himself be farther then that.

“I’m sorry,” Derek said. He didn’t often apologize and the words were strange on his lips. “I shouldn’t have presumed.”

Stiles shook his head. “I get it,” he said. “You… I’m pretty sure I’ve been putting off enough pheromones to knock a horse unconscious, so I can’t blame you.”

“Then why-” Derek cut himself off with a wince. He hadn’t wanted to pry, had wanted to just let the Guide go before it got too bad.

He ignored the voice that said it already was too bad. He was already too attached to this temporary pack member.

“My parents had a full bond,” Stiles began. His body was curled up on itself, his arms around his knees. Derek wanted so badly to touch him, give him some sort of comfort, but he found that he didn’t know how.

“What happened?” Derek asked softly, when Stiles didn’t say anything.

Stiles dropped his head a bit more, his words so quiet that only a Sentinel like Derek would be able to hear them, even from their minimal distance. “I was eight when my mother died of cancer. My dad-” a chocked sob cut his words and Stiles buried his head.

He didn’t have to go on. Derek knew what it meant to have a full bond, knew how unlikely it was for the other half of a pair to keep going when their bonded died.

“He hung on just long enough to tell me how sorry he was,” Stiles whispered into his knees. “And to make our lawyer promise that I would be put with another Sentinel-Guide pair.”

“Were you?” Derek asked.

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, but… they’re both in the CIA. The agency let them stay in Chicago with me until I turned eighteen, then they asked them to go overseas. I haven’t seen them in nearly a year now.”

“I’m sorry,” Derek said, not sure if that was the right thing to say or not. Even the second time around, the words sounded off.

“Not your fault,” Stiles told him. He lifted his head, his eyes still brimming with unshed tears. “It’s just… that’s why, okay? I can’t… a full bond is-”

“I get it, Stiles,” Derek said. “I promise. I won’t force you. I would never, but-” he let out a harsh breath. “I won’t.”

Stiles smiled a little shakily. “Okay. And I’m sorry, for leading you on.”

Derek reached forward as Stiles did, their hands brushing against each other. “It’s okay,” he said, even though it wasn’t.

Stiles nodded like he knew and stood, coming to sit on Derek’s lap. Derek hugged the shaking Guide, hating the fact that soon he’d have to let him go, that he didn’t have the right to do this whenever he wanted.

That he couldn’t ask Stiles to stay.

.-._.-._.-.

Jackson cocked his head to the side. Besides him, Erica froze. Both of their Guides reacted immediately, placing hands on them.

Jackson took a steadying breath and leaned back against Lydia. “What is it?” she asked softly.

“I don’t know yet,” he said. Lydia stabilized him through their bond. He let his eyes unfocus and concentrated on his hearing, spreading it out through the woods.

“Derek!” Erica shouted, too loud.

Jackson winced, but Lydia was already rubbing his neck, soothing him, and he pulled back from the zone out before it even started. He glared at his fellow Sentinel.

“Sorry,” she said, quieter. “But there’s another Sentinel in our territory.”

“Yeah,” Jackson growled. “I know.”

Erica growled back, until Boyd stepped in and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Calm down.”

Lydia clicked her tongue in agreement and Jackson forced himself to relax. He gave Erica a quick nod of apology which she returned.

“Come on,” Lydia said. “We should get back to the house and see if our alpha knows anything about this.”

“If not-” Erica grinned, feral and vicious, and Jackson echoed it with his own flash of teeth. Neither of them was particularly fond of their territory being intruded upon.

Boyd let out a deep sigh and Lydia’s hand tightened on Jackson’s arm, but neither of the Guides said anything and that was all the permission Jackson needed.

.-._.-._.-.

Derek pulled away from Stiles. “Something is wrong.”

Stiles looked at him, his trembling giving way towards concern. “What?”

“Erica yelled…” Derek frowned. “There’s an outsider.”

“Who?” Stiles asked, uncurling from his spot on the couch.

Derek didn’t answer, but he did wait for Stiles to stand before walking to the porch. The rest of the pack was already gathering and Derek nodded to Erica. Stiles stood to his right, just barely not brushing their arms together.

A car rolled up the driveway and stopped just in front of the gathering pack. Behind him, Jackson growled. “Harris.”

The driver’s side door opened and out walked Adrian Harris, unbonded Riverside pack beta Sentinel who liked to pretend he was alpha. Derek had to pull back the urge to growl himself. Instead, he lifted his chin high and met Harris’ gaze.

“Quite the welcoming party,” Harris said in his smoothly nasty voice. “Alpha Derek.”

“Harris,” Derek greeted roughly. “I wasn’t aware the Riverside pack was sending you so soon.” He should have known, he thought. When did that alpha ever do things exactly as she said she would?

Harris shrugged, as if it didn’t mattered that he hadn’t given Derek’s pack any warning as to the change of plans. “It was the most convenient time for us.” He smiled slyly. “Surely you don’t mind?”

Derek gritted his teeth.

“I’ve heard your pack has grown,” Harris continued. His eyes flicked to Derek’s side.

Derek found himself moving in front of Stiles without conscious thought. “That is not your concern right now. We have other things to discuss.” He held Harris’ gaze warningly.

Harris frowned and nodded. “As you say,  _Derek_.”

.-._.-._.-.

Stiles tugged on Derek’s jacket softly. He didn’t quite know what was going on between Derek and this new Sentinel, but he wasn’t fond of the tension in the air.

Derek looked at him and sighed into his ear, “Take the pack into the woods. I’ll stay with Danny, Jackson, and Lydia and talk things over with Harris.”

Stiles nodded, because now was not the time to be arguing about anything. He took a couple steps away from Derek and immediately felt a pull back towards him. Shaking himself of the feeling, he gestured to the pack and they walked together into the surrounding forest.

He looked back just before the trees blocked his vision to see Derek watching him, Jackson safely distracting the Riverside Sentinel. He gave the alpha a nod and turned around against with a lump in his throat.

They walked until they were too far for any of the Sentinel to be able to overhear specific words and Stiles cleared his throat. Immediately, the pack looked to him as if he would know what to do next.

Stiles sighed. “Let’s work on some training, okay?”

No one argued, though maybe they should have. Stiles set them about working on their sense of smell and sat down on a nearby log to watch. After a moment, Isaac joined him.

“Why didn’t you stay?” Stiles asked.

“I’m not the best at negotiations,” Isaac said with a grimace. “And I trust our alpha to take care of Danny.”

Stiles smiled at the Sentinel. “That’s high praise.”

Isaac shrugged. “Derek’s earned it,” he murmured. “How about you?”

“Me what?” Stiles asked.

“Why didn’t you stay?” Isaac pressed. “Derek might need you.”

Stiles looked down at his hands. “He’s not alone.”

“No,” Isaac acknowledged. “But you’re-”

“Nothing,” Stiles said. “I’m just a guest.” He looked at Isaac, aware that he was still trembling, that the trembling had never really gone away. “Aren’t I?”

Isaac stood, anger flashing in his eyes. “No, Stiles. You’re not. You haven’t been since practically the beginning.”

Stiles gaped, but Isaac was already turning back to the rest of the pack, who were trying to pretend that they hadn’t been eavesdropping. They were failing miserably.

“Don’t stop,” Stiles said. “Work on sight next. Try piggybacking your sight on your smell.”

Scott groaned, because Stiles knew those were his least favorite combination of scents, but Stiles couldn’t care at the moment. He was too shaken by the thought that the pack had been treating him like Derek’s Guide for weeks now and he hadn’t even noticed.

.-._.-._.-.

Dinner was just as uncomfortable and aggravating as Erica had thought it would be. Harris sat on Derek’s left as the supposedly honored guest, but unfortunately that put him across from Stiles.

The whole pack was holding back growls at Harris’ staring and Erica could tell that their alpha was the most effected.

Stiles, for his part, said so little that it was as if he was a completely different person. Erica wanted to kick Harris out then and there for ruining all the work they’d put in on making Stiles feel like one of the pack. He was an alpha Guide for fuck’s sake, he should not be looking down at his plate like making eye contact would result in being yelled at.

Or propositioned.

Erica frowned harder. Normally Boyd would be able to calm her down, but her Guide was just as upset as she was and it showed. She leaned back against his arm, eyes still pinned on Harris.

At the head of the table, Derek unclenched his fingers from his knife and nudged Stiles foot with his own. Stiles smiled at him briefly, as if to reassure him that it was all okay. It wasn’t, but Derek let it go.

Erica didn’t, but then there wasn’t anything she could do about it so it was left simmering under her skin like an explosion waiting to happen.

.-._.-._.-.

“You’ve been spending quite a bit of time here recently,” Deaton said. “And I am pretty sure it is not for my company.”

Stiles flushed. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy your company, per say.”

“I’m not offended,” Deaton laughed. He moved his papers aside and leaned forward on his desk. “What is wrong? Is it Derek?”

Stiles shook his head. “Not… particularly. There’s a new, uh, ambassador.”

“Ah, Adrian Harris, yes?” Deaton said. “Of the Riverside pack.”

“You know him?” Stiles asked.

“Of him,” Deaton said. “But alas we have never met.”

“Then you’re lucky,” Stiles muttered. Deaton just looked at him and Stiles sighed. “It’s been making things uncomfortable.”

“I see,” Deaton said. “Have you been considering going back to be Chicago?”

Stiles shook his head, quite suddenly realizing he hadn’t been. That he hadn’t even thought of Chicago in weeks. “I don’t have anyone there for. Scott and Allison are here. And, well the rest of the pack.”

“And Derek,” Deaton added.

Stiles frowned. “Derek.”

“Surely you’re not oblivious of things you would see in an instance among others,” Deaton prompted.

“No,” Stiles said. “I just don’t want to acknowledge it.”

“You’re frightened,” Deaton stated.

Stiles said nothing, but he knew Deaton was right. Sighing, Deaton stood and walked around his desk. Stiles stood with him and allowed himself to be led to the door. “I think you know what you must do, Stiles.”

Stiles turned around and hugged Deaton. Deaton hugged back, obviously surprised. “Thanks,” he said, before letting go and stepping out the door.

Derek’s car was waiting already. Stiles opened the passenger side and slid in, turning to greet the alpha.

He froze as he realized that it wasn’t Derek in the driver’s seat. He reached for the door, but the car was already speeding off too fast for Stiles to be able to jump out. “Stop. What are you doing?” Stiles yelled.

Harris laughed. “Don’t be afraid, little Guide. I won’t hurt you.” He paused and reached over with a gloved hand to stab something into Stiles’ arm. Stiles jerked back, but it was too late.

Darkness flooded his vision and he felt his body slumping forward. “Derek,” Stiles whispered, and then he was gone.

.-._.-._.-.

Derek felt a tug at his navel and frowned. He looked around, but nothing seemed off.

Except-

“Where is Stiles?” he asked. “Who was going to pick him up from Deaton’s office?”

The pack shook their heads, silent and frowning. Jackson walked in through the front door, a scowl on his face.

“I was,” he said, having obviously heard Derek’s question from outside. “But Harris said you were going to get him. I saw your car leaving.

Derek surged to his feet. He glanced over at the key rings next to the door where the pack always left their car keys. His set wasn’t there. “Where the hell is Harris?”

Allison gasped. “You don’t think?”

“I’m going to rip him apart,” Erica growled. “I knew there was something off about him.”

“If he hurt Stiles,” Danny said. “But why would he? What does he have to gain from that?”

“To hurt the pack,” Lydia stated.

“That’d be declaring war, though, from the Riverside pack. Harris wouldn’t…” Danny trailed off. “Would he?”

“I don’t know,” Derek rumbled. “But something is wrong, I can feel it.”

Lydia and Allison exchanged high-eyebrowed glances. “Derek.”

Derek shook his head and turned towards Scott. “He was your temporary Guide. You should be able to track him best.”

“No,” Scott said slowly. His brown eyes were wide. “I don’t think I am the best anymore.”

Derek was about to ask what he meant, but then his spirit animal materialized in front of him, red eyes flashing in anger. He felt sucker punched, for a moment, by the realization, but now was not the time.

“Find him,” Derek commanded.

His wolf howled, echoed soon by the howls of the spirit animals of the rest of his pack.

.-._.-._.-.

Stiles’ head was pounding. He groaned and opened his eyes, squinting through the blur until it focused on the form of Harris, smiling down at him.

Stiles jerked away, but he was caught by rough ropes. Looking around quickly, he realized he had no idea where he was. He might not even be in Beacon Hills anymore, and that was terrifying.

“What the hell?” Stiles demanded.

Harris was still smiling. “Mr. Stilinski,” he said smoothly. “My alpha had heard that you’d chosen to come to Beacon Hills. She’s quite interested in you, my alpha.” He scowled suddenly and it transformed his face so utterly that Stiles let out a little squeak. “I have to admit I’m a little too selfish to take you to her.”

“Okay, okay, good,” Stiles said. “I don’t want her. If you’d just let me go, I’ll never see her.”

“Don’t misunderstand me on purpose,” Harris hissed. His face slackened back into a pleasant, if creepy, smile, and he reached a hand to gently stroke Stiles’ cheek. “With a Guide of your power I could be my own alpha.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Stiles told the insane Sentinel, trying to edge away, but the ropes had no give.

Harris laughed, as if he thought Stiles’ naivety was funny. Stiles scowled. It wasn’t as if he was one of the forerunners of modern Sentinel-Guide studies or anything.

“I’ll be a good Sentinel to you,  _Stiles_. Not like Derek. I won’t let you run around. You could have gotten hurt in those woods,” Harris continued.

“I’m capable of taking care of myself, thanks,” Stiles said.

Harris went on as if Stiles hadn’t said anything. “I have my rules of course. I’ll be very cross if you break them, but I know you won’t. I would hate to harm that pretty face of yours.”

“Why aren’t you dormant?” Stiles demanded.

Harris snarled, harsh and foul. His slammed his hands on either side of the floor next to Stiles and brought his face right up close. “You’ll be  _mine_ ,” he said. “And you will not insult me like that again.”

“Not on your life,” Stiles growled right back, though fear was creeping into his body.

Harris laughed, high-pitched and cruel. “You don’t have a choice,” he said. He leaned forward.

Stiles leaned his head back as far as he could and turned his face. His pressed his lips close together, his whole body shaking. Harris growled and grabbed his chin with one strikingly cold hand, wrenching his face back front.

 _No_ , Stiles begged wordlessly.  _Stop_.  _This can’t be happening_.

Harris pressed his lips to Stiles’.

Stiles closed his eyes tightly, tears gathering in the corner of his eyelids as he tried to pull his head away, but Harris had both hands now clutching to the side of his face, keeping him in place as he kissed him.

There was a spark of something burning in between them, painful and unbearable and  _no_ , Stiles can’t bond to this bastard. There was only one person he could even consider bonding to and it wasn’t this Sentinel.

Harris pulled back, gasping. “What-” he began, but all the sudden his eyes were unfocusing and Stiles realized that he was zoning.

The burning was still there, like coals spreading over his skin. Stiles pulled all of that feeling he could and  _pushed_  it towards the Sentinel. Harris screamed, clutching at his face. He fell over backwards, convulsing.

“Do you feel that,” Stiles said, his throat sore as if he’d been screaming himself. “Concentrate on that feeling. It’s washing over you, taking over your senses.”

Harris froze like a switch was flipped and Stiles choked out a sob of relief.

.-._.-._.-.

By the time Derek had slammed his way into the old warehouse that his spirit animal had led him and the pack to, Harris was already incapacitated. Derek only spared him enough of a glance to be able to gauge him not an immediate threat before he was rushing to Stiles.

He untied the Guide quickly, pulling him against his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry we let him get you.”

Stiles shook, clutching to Derek’s shirt. Derek held him harder, until the shaking subsided and Stiles looked up.

“How’d you find me?” he asked, looking stunned and a bit nauseous but already better in Derek’s arms.

Erica and Boyd were busy tying Harris up, and being quite rough about it, while the rest of the pack glared at the zoned Sentinel. So it was up to Derek to answer for himself.

“My spirit animal,” Derek admitted.

Stiles gaped, pulling back slightly. “But… that only happens in full bonds!”

“I know,” Derek murmured.

“Stiles.” That was Lydia. “Do you know why Sentinels and Guides use kissing to begin a bond?”

“Because it’s the easiest form of intimacy,” Stiles said. “It allows the Guide’s mind to open up to the Sentinel’s.”

“Yes, but Stiles,” Lydia said softly. “Do you think, maybe, your mind opened up… anyway?”

Derek closed his eyes so as not to see Stiles’ expression. That didn’t stop him from hearing the painful hitch in Stiles’ breath. “No,” the Guide said. “No, but-”

“It’s true,” Derek said. “I… I feel it.”

“So that’s why,” Stiles murmured. “He tried to bond with me, but it didn’t work. It just _hurt_.”

Derek growled before he could help himself, pulling Stiles as close as possible. “He can’t have you.”

Stiles wiggled in his arms until Derek pulled back enough that they could look each other in the eyes. “This isn’t a contest that you won, Derek _._ ”

And though the words were angry, there was still pain and fear in Stiles’ eyes and Derek pulled back. He didn’t want, he couldn’t hurt Stiles, even just by the knowledge that he’d already put upon him. “I’m sorry.”

“Stiles,” Scott murmured, coming up to them. The rest of the pack was still surrounding Harris, watching him with real rage in their eyes.

“I have to call the Riverside pack,” Derek murmured.

Stiles nodded, his throat working silently for a moment before he shook his head vigorously. “Tell the alpha that Harris wanted to create his own pack. That’s why he… he said she wanted me instead but he wasn’t going to give me to her.”

Derek hissed and turned away so Stiles wouldn’t see the blinding fever of his anger. “I’ll take care of it.”

Allison reached forward and touched Stiles’ lightly on the arm, herding him with Scott away from the group. Derek watched them go, his body taught with the desire to follow, before forcing himself to pick up his cell and dial the Riverside alpha.

.-._.-._.-.

Allison sighed softly, careful not to wake Stiles. Next to her, Scott shifted enough to put an arm over her shoulder.

“I can’t believe…” Allison murmured. Her eyes traced the lines in Stiles’ forehead and the words caught in her throat.

“Me neither,” Scott whispered. “I never imagined Stiles would ever get bonded.”

Allison turned to her Sentinel. “Did you ever want him?”

Scott smiled at her and immediately any worry she had disappeared. “No, not like that,” he said. “He’s my best friend. My brother, practically. You’re it for me, Allison.”

Allison blushed and nodded. “You too.”

Scott kissed her cheek and then turned back to watching Stiles. Allison knew he took guarding him seriously. She understood. Stiles was special.

She just hoped Derek realized that.

Then again, Allison mused, she thought he just might even more than she.

.-._.-._.-.

It was sunlight that woke Stiles. He blinked, turning his face towards it. He missed the sun sometimes in Chicago. It never came out enough.

He wasn’t in Chicago, though.

Stiles sat up slowly, hand coming to his own lips as the memories rushed back. He turned to the left and saw Derek watching him from the beside chair. “Hi,” Stiles said, dropping his hand.

“Stiles,” Derek breathed. He looked down. “Are you okay?”

Stiles let out a quick breath and nodded, then reconsidered and shook his head. “I’ve spent almost my whole life running from a full bond,” he explained softly. “Ever since I came online when my dad… when my dad passed away.”

“I’m sorry,” Derek said. “I meant what I said, that I didn’t mean to force you, and I did anyway-”

“No, God, Derek, don’t blame yourself,” Stiles cut him off. He reached forward and grasped Derek’s hand. “We’re compatible, really compatible, and I opened up to you, I knew I had but I’d tried to convince myself that it was just metaphorical, that I’d decided I could trust you. Not… not like this.”

Derek stroked the back of Stiles’ hand with his thumb. “Does it have to be a bad thing?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles admitted, closing his eyes against Derek’s too warm eyes. He thought of Deaton, what he’d said. And of the rest of the pack and their support. He thought of Harris, and how all he thought about in that moment was that he didn’t want him, he just wanted Derek. “When it’s over-”

“But it’s not,” Derek said. “It’s not over yet, Stiles. It doesn’t have to be over.”

Stiles felt his throat constrict and suddenly Derek was curling up around him on the bed, gently wiping away his tears. “My mother’s cancer was hereditary, Derek. The doctors say I have a fifty-fifty chance of developing it.”

“Then you’ll fight it,” Derek said. “I’ll help you fight it.”

“And if I can’t?” Stiles asked. “If I’m overcome by it like my mom was?”

“Then I’ll hold you in your last hours,” Derek whispered. “Like I’m sure your dad did. I’ll hold you just like this and I won’t let you go until you’re gone.”

Stiles shivered, Derek’s arms warm and just on the side of constricting and he found that he never wanted to leave them. “I don’t want children. I can’t risk- I don’t want to leave them like my parents left me.”

“Okay,” Derek agreed easily. “We don’t need children. We have the pack.”

“Yeah,” Stiles murmured. “We do.” He tilted his face up so that he could meet Derek’s eyes. “It’s still not fair to you.”

“Stiles,” Derek breathed, his expression as soft as anything Stiles had ever seen. “Whatever time with you I have will be worth it. I promise.”

Stiles laughed, a sort of catharsis and bitterness and happiness and everything in between. “You’re going to regret that.”

“Never,” Derek said, and the conviction in his tone said everything.

.-._.-._.-.

“You don’t seem shocked,” Stiles said. He’d just finished explaining his and Derek’s unusual bond to Deaton, but Deaton knew he looked as serene as he always did.

“I am not,” Deaton said. He sighed heavily. “I’m not sure you’ll appreciate me saying this, Stiles, but I have known Derek for many a year and he has never once reacted to any Guide the way he has to you. He has even been in the company of level three alphas, a very tempting prospect as you should know, and  _never_  has he so much as showed anything more than passing interest in them.”

“I didn’t know,” Stiles murmured, looking down at his hands.

Deaton wanted to say more to the Guide, wanted to tell him about those long summers in New York where Derek would spend the night watching the city, tears in his eyes that he would never shed. He wanted to tell Stiles about the sullenness, the quiet isolation Derek would enforce on himself.

He wanted to explain how strange it was for Derek to have been so willing to drop his barriers for Stiles from the start. How much Stiles really was special.

Deaton didn’t, though, say any of that, because it was things Stiles would have to learn for himself in Derek adoration.

“I just didn’t think it was possible,” Stiles said. “We barely ever touched.”

Deaton snorted before he could help himself. “I think you may need to rethink that statement, Mr. Stilinski,” he said dryly.

Stiles opened his mouth, likely to argue, and then rethought things over and closed it. Deaton thought he could, even without the benefit of empathy, see the spectrum of realization flutter over Stiles’ face.

“Oh,” Stiles murmured. “I… didn’t ever realize.”

Deaton reached forward, slowly so that the newly bonded Guide could pull away if he wanted to, and clasped Stiles on the shoulder. Stiles surprised him, then, but moving closer, around Deaton’s desk, and pulling him in for a tight hug.

“This pack here is a treasure trove of talent and determination,” Deaton whispered. “Derek will do all he can to protect you and I know your presence will heal him.”  _And his will heal yours_ , Deaton thought but did not say.

Stiles took a shaking breath and then pulled back. When he met Deaton’s eyes again, he looked far more sure of himself. He wasn’t yet all the way there, Deaton knew, but he was no longer looking at the past and instead towards the future.

Stiles confirmed his thoughts with his next words. “If I’m going to be the alpha Guide of this pack, I want to be a good one. They’re a great group and I… I really care for them. I want to help them.”

Deaton smiled, and then a reminder tugged at his thoughts and the smile dropped. “If you want to do that, then there are a couple things you’ll need to be prepared for,” he said. “I fear a threat may loom on your horizon.”

“The Riverside pack,” Stiles said.

Deaton nodded and Stiles breathed out a harsh puff of air. “Tell me everything I need to know about them,” he demanded.

To the best of his own knowledge, Deaton did. He could only hope that in the future months, when he feared the tension between the two packs would escalate, that it would be enough.

.-._.-._.-.

Isaac approached Derek slowly, cautiously. He thought perhaps that he always would. Derek was his alpha, his direct authority figure, and growing up Isaac had learned to be wary of those who had such control over him.

But he trusted Derek, he trusted Derek not to hurt him, not to hurt his Guide and light… he trusted Derek to listen to his words now.

Derek turned his shoulders slightly, an invitation for Isaac to join him on the porch. Isaac leaned against the railing next to his alpha and folded his fingers together.

“Speak your mind, Isaac,” Derek said after a long moment of silence.

Isaac looked towards the woods, stretching his senses out just a bit to see if he could hear the pairs on patrol. Inside, Danny and Stiles were preparing dinner for them all. It was nice, domestic even, and Isaac hoped it would last.

“Stiles is like us,” he said finally. “He’s not like Danny or Allison or Lydia. He’s hurt.”

Derek scowled. “He’s healed.”

Isaac shook his head. “Not on the outside. On the inside, in his soul. He has scars there.”

Derek looked fully at Isaac now and Isaac resisted the urge to drop his gaze. He raised his chin instead, because Derek needed to hear his words.

Sighing, Derek looked away. “I know he does.”

“Yes,” Isaac said. “But you need to remember. It won’t be easy. It wasn’t for Danny and I, still isn’t, sometimes. We work because we decided that we will.”

“We are compatible enough to have bonded without any act of intimacy,” Derek argued.

Isaac snorted. “Just the presence of a bond doesn’t solve anything.” He swallowed a bit and looked back to the woods. “I’m telling you because you don’t know. You’ve never had a full bond before. It’s not the end-all, okay? You still have to communicate and I know you don’t like to, sometimes. But Stiles deserves your open honesty.”

Derek bowed his head and Isaac stared down at his folded hands. It took several beats before Derek nodded. “Thank you,” he said, soft and unusual.

Isaac smiled, absolved of the weight that had been pressing on him for the past several weeks, ever since he’d figured what Derek and Stiles would become. “I have faith in you both,” he said. “You’re both our alphas now.”

He left them with the feeling of Derek’s eyes staring into his back. In the kitchen, Danny and Stiles were laughing as they took the casserole out of the oven and Isaac approached them without any tread in his step.

.-._.-._.-.

Derek approached Stiles slowly, still a bit uncertain around each other even now. Stiles smiled at him, though it was a small one. Derek watched him close his laptop, giving Derek his full attention.

“I was wondering if you would like to eat dinner with me,” Derek said. “Just the two of us.”

Stiles blinked and then he laughed. “Sure,” he said as Derek’s heart threatened to pound its way out of his chest. “Though I think we might be doing this a bit backwards.”

Derek relaxed, for if Stiles could joke about their accidental bonding then that meant he wasn’t in the worst place he could be, emotionally. Taking a chance, Derek held out his hand for Stiles to take.

Stiles did, letting Derek pull him to his feet. He ran a hand along the back of Derek’s neck and Derek tucked his nose against Stiles’ hair for just a moment, breathing in the soothing scent of his Guide. He pulled back after a moment, their bond thrumming between them.

Allison had a picnic basket waiting for them by the door. Derek had made most of what was inside, but he thanked her putting it all together and grabbing the blanket for them to sit on. He would have forgotten it.

Stiles had a strange look in his eyes as Derek grabbed the basket, but he didn’t seem upset so Derek led him out of the door and towards the woods. There was an outlook that overlooked Beacon Hills proper and that was where Derek pointed them in the direction of.

“The Riverside pack,” Stiles said after a few minutes of silent walking. “Why does their alpha dislike you?”

Derek sighed, his grip on the picnic basket tightening. “It’s a long story,” he murmured. “And it has mostly to do with my uncle.”

“The one who was in the car with your sister?” Stiles asked.

Derek nodded tightly and Stiles walked closer, brushing their arms together. Surprisingly, though may he shouldn’t be, Derek found himself relaxing. He glanced at Stiles out of the corner of his eyes and found Stiles looking back.

“If things come to a head with them,” Stiles said. “What will you do?”

“Fight,” Derek said. “I will not give into them. My pack is strong and though we may be small, each one is worth three times any of Riverside.”

“Our,” Stiles stated.

“What?”

“Our pack.” Stiles was looking ahead now, his chin raised. “It’s our pack now.”

Derek let loose a breath and brushed his free hand against Stiles’ cheek. “Our pack,” he agreed.

They reached the overhang and Derek spread the blanket. Stiles sat down cross-legged, taking off his shoes to sit on the ground next to the blanket. Derek copied him.

“I have connections,” Stiles said, facing Derek now. “If we need to fight, a true battle, then we will not be alone. We can get the numbers to help.”

Derek wanted to say that he did not want others caught up in his, their, pack dispute, but he knew that he couldn’t let his pride be that which ruined them. “Perhaps,” he settled for. “We have other options for diplomacy until then.”

“We’ll see.” Stiles frowned. Derek almost mentioned that his mere presence would help. G. Stilinski was too well-known, too popular, for the Riverside alpha to dismiss. And Stiles himself was powerful. Together, they could bring out abilities that Derek had never been able to control before.

His spirit animal flashed in the corner of his vision, gleaming eyes approving. Derek smiled and opened the picnic basket.

They moved onto other subjects as they ate, mainly training regimens for the pack and Stiles’ new book, now almost finished.

“You’ll have to meet my guardians at some point, of course,” Stiles said. “I called them the other day, though we couldn’t talk for long. I think they’re in Spain.” He frowned. “Maybe.”

Derek had moved closer to his Guide as the meal diminished between them and now he sat with Stiles nearly in his lap. “Will I survive?” he asked, only have joking.

“I’ll protect you,” Stiles promised.

“My hero,” Derek deadpanned.

Stiles laughed, throwing his head back. His throat was pale in the soft moonlight and when he looked back at Derek, his eyes were bright and glowing. Derek leaned forward before he could help it and kissed him.

.-._.-._.-.

Stiles first reaction to the kiss, to any kiss ever, was to pull back before a bond could form, but that didn’t matter now and besides, it sparked with pleasure. He leaned closer instead, gently biting Derek’s bottom lip. Derek opened his mouth, his tongue coming out to flick at Stiles’ lip and Stiles pressed in.

Derek’s hands were hot on his back and he slipped one of them under Stiles’ shirt. Stiles shivered at the sensation of those calloused fingers running along his spine and he pulled back just a bit.

“Is this okay?” Derek asked.

Stiles looked into his Sentinel’s hazel eyes, his pupil’s dilated. “Did you take me out here to seduce me?”

Derek smirked, but he shook his head.

“Well,” Stiles said. “It worked anyway.” He kissed Derek. “The bond needs this.”

Derek stopped him with a hand to the back of his head, pulling him back gently. “The bond can wait. Do you want this?”

“Yes,” Stiles said, because he did. Because Derek looked beautiful and  _his_  which was a truth he was still realizing. “If you do.”

Derek nodded. Mutually understanding, they shed their clothes. The full moon lit the way to each other’s bodies until they were both naked, the dirty dishes pushed aside to make room for them both.

Stiles pushed Derek on his back, running fingers down the length of his body. Derek’s cock was erect, though not fully hard yet, and Stiles gave into temptation and licked it. Derek bucked up, but Stiles used his hands to hold him steady.

Derek’s cock swelled in his mouth and Stiles sucked down the head and took in half of the, admittedly long, shaft. He replaced one of his hands with that arm’s elbow and began to pump the part of the cock he couldn’t fit in his mouth.

Giving blowjobs was his talent when it came to sex. He’d never had sex with anyone but mundanes before, but even with them he was a fan of the less  _intimate_  acts. Blowjobs, to him, were a way to keep his mouth away from theirs.

“God,” Derek groaned. “Shit, Stiles, I’m going to come.”

Stiles grinned around Derek’s cock and took it just a bit deeper, before pulling off. He’d heard the warning in Derek’s words, after all, and the bond wanted more than just a blowjob.

“Did you bring lube?” he asked.

Derek struggled to get an elbow under him and then he reached into the basket, coming back with a bottle. “Sentinel friendly,” he said. “Or so Isaac told me when he tossed it my way.”

“Ugh,” Stiles said, though it kind of amused him. “I don’t want to think about the pack while we’re both naked.”

Derek surged up them, obviously having regained his strength enough to flip Stiles onto the blanket with Derek on top this time. “Good,” he said smugly.

Stiles planted his feet, spreading his knees. He handed the lube to Derek. “It’s been a while,” he admitted. “Go slow.”

Instead of pouring lube, though, Derek scooted back and kneeled down, his intent obvious as he flicked his tongue out along Stiles’ ass.

“Fuck,” Stiles hissed. He propped himself up enough to be able to touch the top of Derek’s head. “Dial down your taste,” he said, because otherwise the Sentinel would taste all sorts of nasty things with his enhanced senses.

Derek hummed in compliance and then his tongue was in Stiles and Stiles could do nothing but feel. The sensation was wet and warm and it sent tingles down to Stiles’ feet and he whined in the back of his throat to get more. Derek began to thrust with his tongue, his hands massaging Stiles’ ass, but it wasn’t enough.

“Please,” Stiles begged.

Derek pulled back, his eyes dark as they met Stiles’. Stiles panted a bit, his thighs vibrating. He bucked his hips up into empty air. Derek popped the lube open and poured it on two fingers. He reached up, pulling Stiles in for a kiss and he worked one into Stiles’ ass.

It went easy and though the sensation was no where near as satisfying at Derek’s tongue, Stiles knew what came next and so did their bond. It pulled them closer, the friction between them like a burn.

Another finger came, scissoring and searching. Stiles wiggled, impatient, until Derek distracted him with teeth scrapping against his side and he scratched with dull nails against Derek’s shoulder.

Derek felt heavy now on top of Stiles and he rubbed his cock against Derek’s body. The Sentinel grunted and pressed back, three fingers now twisting and turning and pumping in and out.

“Come on,” Stiles said. “More.”

Derek added a fourth finger, all tangled together in the heat of Stiles’ body. Stiles shook his head, frustrated. “Derek,” he said.

“I know,” Derek growled, as if he was beyond real speech. There was wolf in his eyes, like his spirit animal, and Stiles shuddered.

Derek pulled his fingers out, replacing them so quickly at Stiles found himself penetrated before he could tense back up in preparation. His head fell back at the feeling of Derek’s cock lodged inside him.

The Sentinel began thrusting and Stiles let out an open-mouthed moan of pleasure as it barely brushed his prostate. He lifted a leg, throwing it over Derek’s shoulder, and thrust back in tandem to Derek’s movement.

“Stiles,” Derek grunted.

Stiles felt Derek’s need, his approval and his want and every other emotion, many of which came unnamed into him and left him breathless. He reached up, tangling his hands in Derek’s short hair. Derek’s thrusts sped up and he changed angle.

Stiles didn’t have to say anything as the pleasure rocked through him. He knew it would feed through the bond, just as Derek’s was feeding through to him. He felt connected, at one with his Sentinel.

Derek’s condemnation at the cliché drifted to him and Stiles nearly laughed, except that Derek had leaned forward, resting his head on Stiles’ chest as his hips furiously rocked them.

The full moon shone down on them and Stiles looked up at it until he had to close his eyes because the world was growing smaller and smaller.

Derek let out a cry and the burst of extreme pleasure he sent through their bond was enough to send Stiles over the edge with him. They both came, pulsing against and in and at once like a storm hitting.

The peace came after, with their pants, the heaving of their breaths in tandem. Derek pulled out of Stiles, but made no move to clean them and Stiles didn’t either. He pulled Derek up, instead, so that they were level.

After that, kissing seemed almost too little, but Stiles did it anyway. He felt Derek contentment and his own happiness, or maybe it was both of theirs. He tucked his face into Derek’s neck.

Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles, holding him close. The world around them had expanded again and Stiles knew that for that one moment, they had been completely vulnerable.

But they were fine. It was their territory that they were in and overlooking and surrounding them was only friends. Stiles felt Derek stretch out his senses, listening for anything amiss. He used their bond to smooth the way for his Sentinel and after a few minutes, Derek settled back down.

“We’ll be fine,” Stiles said and it was as if the words made it so. He was scared still of this thing between them becoming a trap as much as it was safety and control, but now he felt he understood why his parents, and his guardians, had both said it had been and, for one set, continued to be worth it.

For them too, he hoped.

“It will be,” Derek said, his voice a rumble that echoed both in Stiles’ mind and his ears.

Stiles wanted to ask how he’d known, but he already knew the answer. He smiled then and nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I think so too.”


End file.
